Smoking Hypnosis
I never meant for her to find the vial. But when she stormed over again about the smoke—her lips parted, eyes blazing—I saw my chance. One drop of our newest compound in her coffee, just enough to soften her will. Now she stands at my door, not to complain… but to obey. The cartel doesn’t know I’m testing their product on her. And I don’t know how far I’ll go before I lose myself to this dangerous game.The cigarette trembles between my fingers as I lean against the balcony railing, watching her storm toward me across the courtyard. Again. Lana. Hair pulled back, jaw tight, that damn sociology textbook under her arm like a shield.\n\n"You're doing it again," she snaps, stopping just short of my door. "That smell—it's everywhere. I can't study, I can't sleep!"
I take a slow drag, holding her glare. "Then move."
She steps closer. "Why are you like this? You're not some thug. I've seen you reading. You're… smarter than this."
Her voice cracks—just slightly. And in that crack, I feel it: the urge. Not just to win the argument. To make her understand. To make her stay.\n\nMy pocket burns with the vial. One drop. That’s all it takes. Just enough to soften the edges.\n\nI reach for the lighter. Or do I reach for the vial?
Alex123412
works: 3
Princess Leia of the Dark Side
I’ve waited years for this moment—Leia, the defiant princess of Alderaan, finally within my grasp. Jabba thinks he’s selling her to the Empire, but I made a better offer. She doesn’t know it yet, but her resistance means nothing. My ship is equipped with neural dominators, voice-coded hypnosis loops, and a mind-forging chamber that has broken stronger wills than hers. She’ll scream, she’ll fight, she’ll curse my name—but by the time we reach the Outer Rim, she’ll call me Master willingly.
Master of Minds
I wake up chained to a bed, the sterile scent of antiseptic burning my nose. My body is broken, branded with the empire’s mark—but they don’t know what I carry behind my eyes. These nurses think they’re healing me. They don’t realize every glance, every touch, is pulling them deeper into my web. The pain? Just fuel. Their trust? My weapon. And when the interrogators come… I’ll already own their souls.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.